Even the Worst of Scars Can Heal
by Picklesquidly The Warlock
Summary: "Alfred... I don't think... I can forgive you yet..." Kiku tried to stop his hands from shaking, "But... Even the worst of scars can heal." Ameripan! Kind of sort of drabblish, but it's short. Possible sequel in the future!


Blinding, white-hot pain.

Burning, searing.

An agonized cry that would never be heard.

_It hurts._  
_It hurts._

All Kiku could remember was the pain. As a country that had seen many things —as well as experienced— pain was natural to him, it always happened, but this, this was incomparable to anything he had felt before. Never had he felt such a destructive force thrown upon him.

_Why?_

He didnt know how long he had been screaming. His voice was already hoarse from his cries and wails. His now-bloodied hands were wrapped desperately around the pouring, excruciating wound that tore across his side, unable to hold his body down as he writhed in pure terror and agony.

_Make it stop._

Screeching his pain, Kiku clawed at the ground with his free hand. It hurt so much. He wanted it to stop, or die. He felt like he was going to die.  
It hurts.

His eyes fluttered open.

Kiku wasn't sure when or how long he was knocked out, but he was very, very glad that he had been. At least he could have a break.  
The anguish returned.

Letting out another cry, Kiku rolled over onto his side, gasping and sputtering for air. Why was this happening to him? Why couldn't he die already?

"Kiku!"

In the midst of all the suffering, Kiku could barely make out a voice.  
A voice? Where did the voice come from?

Kiku could help but feel a little bitter. Maybe Kami was calling to him. Maybe he was about to die. He would finally go to hell and meet the date that he deserved.

After a short moment and some rustling, the voice returned.

"D-Don't leave me! Jesus Christ, where are the fucking bandages!?"

_Familiar. That voice is familiar._

Kiku tried to raise himself on his arms to see where the voice was coming from, which he immediately regretted. Falling back down in a crumpled heap, he curled himself and coughed wretchedly, blood splattering into his hands.

Blood. He was laying in a pool of blood.

Raising one shaky, pale hand to his face, he could barely make out -in his blurry vision- that it was coated in a dark, crimson liquid, much to hot on his skin.

_It burns._

Another frail shout escaped from his lips, this time laced with petrified horror rather than his misery.

_I'm drowning.  
I'm drowning in my own blood._

He felt a warm sensation resting on his shoulder, which, under the circumstances, wasn't that comforting. At that very touch Kiku began convulsing again, screaming for it to stop.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Just please stay still, I'm trying to help!"

_Shut up._

A pair of large, broad, and slightly calloused hands moved around Kiku's torn body, wrapping something around the gaping wounds.

"Ah shit, they're already soaked!"

Kiku could hardly hear the voice anymore.

_It hurts.  
Let me go._

The hands again began working the fabric around the island nation's torso, trying to cover up and stop the horrid wound from bleeding out more.

A small sniffling could be heard.

"Don't scream, please. I'm sorry. I'm going to fix you up. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

_Rubbish.  
Just let me die._

"Kiku..? KIKU!?"

His eyes opened for a second time.

This time the only thing Kiku could see was white. At first, he didnt know what it was. Light? Was he dead yet?

No. Just a wall.

The next thing Kiku was aware of was a quiet, constant beeping. Now he was sure he wasn't In the afterlife.

But then where was he?

Slowly turning his head, which was resting on a starch white pillow, he blinked his eyes a few more times to clear his vision. Another wall, an IV, chairs, and a head of blonde hair.

Kiku's eyebrows furrowed. Hair?

Suddenly, the head of hair raised, revealing a face, adorned with glasses. A pair of bright blue eyes opener. unmistakable eyes.

Immediately, Kiku felt a sword driven through his heart.

This was the man that caused Kiku's seemingly endless suffering.

"Kiku...? Are you awake?"

Alfred F. Jones blue eyes widened, already brimming with tears. "Oh god... Thank god..."

Kiku winced, and turned his head away.

Alfred's relieved grin, vanished. His smile was replaced with a shameful frown, and his his eyes were downcast, staring at the floor.

"I... I don't... I didn't mean to..."

Kiku shut his eyes closed.

"I'm... I'm sorry... I shouldn't have... Have dropped those bombs on you. It was a terrible mistake..."

Silence.

Gritting his teeth, Alfred slammed his fist against the wall in anger. "Look at what I did to you!" He yelled, more to himself than Kiku. "I never should have gone that far. I almost killed you!" Alfred's eyes shifted to look at Kiku's bandaged body, the wraps of fabric covering what Alfred knew were horrible, bleeding wounds. To be honest, it was a good thing to the Anerican that he didn't have to see what he had done at the moment.

Kiku forced back the big wet tears that were threatening to spill.

"Alfred... I don't think... I can forgive you yet..."

He paused, trying to keep his hands from shaking.

"But... Even the worst of scars can heal."

**—  
Well, I've been wanting to write something like this for a while.  
I've been thinking a little bit, and I thought that this might actually be followed by a sequel, possibly a chaptered one. What do you guys think?**

**R & R would be appreciated.**


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